


Cotton Candy Heart

by ChaoticIdol



Category: South Park
Genre: Angel fic, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Health Issues, Heart Attacks, I'm Going to Hell, Kyle and Kenny protection squad, Lots of Angst, M/M, Multi, Wingfic, but so is Teddy, everyone is poly, heart failure, so it's okay, the kids are around 16 now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 08:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7794451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticIdol/pseuds/ChaoticIdol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~You put in this damn coinslot</p><p> </p><p>Kyle is dying, Stan and Wendy are freaking out, Kenny is determined to save him, and Cartman doesn't know how to handle his favorite (and only likable) Jew about to be put into a casket. Finding out that they all could have had something together doesn't help. </p><p>Or the fic no one asked for that includes, but is not limited to, Kyle's failing heart, poly teens, angst and fluff, Cartman trying hard not to be a prick, Kenny coming up with a good idea but failing, Stan and Wendy plotting for the attention of a certain red head, and Christophe learning exactly why God hates him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cotton Candy Heart

**Author's Note:**

> First paragraph is Teddy's, then mine, then Teddy's, and on and on. This is an RP with my friend TeddyLSD (on Tumblr) and myself. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are great!

Oh God. Oh shit.  
How do you only now realize something like this? How do you feel completely fine and normal with someone, only to not feel fine years later? And why the hell does it happen when it's already too late?  
Kyle wanted so badly to be happy for his friend, or at least not care. The little pervert finally got himself a girl that stuck around for more than a week or two; and he seemed genuinely happy about the relationship, outside of wanting to get to third base as soon as possible. Even Stan and Wendy's so-called "happy" on-again, off-again relationship couldn't compare to them. Not to how Kenny smiled and blushed when he talked about her. Most definitely not to how content they looked with each other on dates, or to the soft giggles and stupid nicknames and sickeningly sweet kisses and hugs and whatnot.  
It hurt. It actually fucking hurt to watch. How could he go years watching Kenny chase after women and only now start to care? Maybe some part of him believed that it would never happen? Maybe he just wanted to believe that he... Had a real chance? He felt like he could never act right around his friend now, everything felt different and there was no going back. He could feel his heart ache. His chest hurt. It made him cough until he couldn't breathe. Was this what heartbreak felt like?  
And then, she left.  
Out of Kenny's life almost as quickly as she came, although it felt like forever in the moment. Maybe it could go back to normal now? But his chest still hurt, and the coughing only got worse. At least it got Kenny's attention... But he was being way too nosy.

~~

Kenny had noticed the changes before even Kyle did. The fatigue, the coughing, the shortness of breath. He knew the signs. He had an uncle that died from heart failure, and Kyle was following every symptom to a T. It took a bit of prodding on his part, but finally he got the needed information printed into a small packet, leaving it slyly in his friend's homework folder. It wouldn't take long before his heart shut down, and Kyle clearly hadn't thought it bad enough to go to his parents about his issues. Oh course he hadn't, ever the logical one in the group yet he couldn't see the signs of his own demise. 

It had been a few days since he left the packet, and he was beginning to worry that Kyle wouldn't take it seriously.  
Sighing, he turned to watch, forming a semi-circle with the others, as his red headed friend went through his daily process of 'Kick the Baby', leg swinging back to aim for his brother's head. He was honestly surprised that the toddler survived this every day. But considering that Kenny once ruled over Hell, he stopped caring about small things like that. There were bigger issues, like what girl (or guy) he would fuck next, how would he die today, Kyle's health, and whether he would get laid before he died. Serious matters for serious minds. Pfft. 

That was when he noticed the white pile that had slipped out of the Jewish boy's pack. The pile, he discovered, was not something perverted like he had hoped, but rather, the pamphlet he had created. He scooped it up, flipping through the pages. There were highlights throughout it, underlining and circling local doctors, symptoms, and causes. So Kyle was taking it serious, and if the scribbles of handwriting were any indication, his parents were looking for doctors close by SouthPark. This was good at least, a decent head start.

He shouted out to Kyle, watching as the green clad head turned towards him, as well as the others'. He held up the papers, shaking them a little back and forth, before deciding that asking was a better way to go about it. Not like he was one for tact anyway.

"So, did you finally ask your parents to take you to the doctor?" He inquired, voice muffled by his parka. He didn't really care though, the rest of the fuckers could figure out what he said if they really wanted to.

 

~~

So what if he was feeling a little under the weather? The town they lived in was always covered in at least three feet of snow all year long with the exception of summer, getting sick wasn't entirely unheard of. Whatever it was, Kyle just wanted Kenny to stop being a nosey little shit about it.  
He was going to wait until whatever he was going through blew over and prove that it wasn't a big deal. Kenny must have thought he was so sneaky putting the small packet in his homework folder, but Kyle was somewhat curious to see why his friend was so damn concerned...  
... He wasn't going to admit that maybe he was wrong. He's too stubborn for that. He wasn't going to tell the others that he finally caved and talked to his parents about the issue. And he certainly wasn't going to make a big deal of the coughing fit and chest pain he had as he tried to speak, "Ready Ike? Kick the baby!"  
He sighed after delivering a foot to his brother's head, turning to the others, not noticing the papers falling from his pack. The moment it actually registers with him what Kenny had said, he freezes, one foot in the snow and the other lifted slightly as he tried to step towards Stan.  
Fuck.  
He takes a deep breath, standing straight and looking at anything other than the boy in the orange parka, "Yes, I did. But I still don't think it's a big deal." That was a lie and he knew it. But it couldn't be too terrible, could it? Risking a glance towards Kenny, he held out his hand for the papers.

 

~~

Kenny tilted his head, trying to understand why Kyle was so averse to accepting his sickness. Sure, it was a scary thing, but none of them would shame him for it...Except maybe Cartman....definitely Cartman. Perhaps it would be better to wait until it was only Kyle, Stan, and him before asking again.  
He felt his hand shiver slightly as he shuffled the papers back into proper order. Goddamn it was cold outside, even more so for February. He was ready for the bus to come, picking them up last. He missed when they were ten years old and were the first to be picked up, directly before the high schoolers, who were before the middle schoolers. Being in middle school is shitty.  
Shifting slightly closer to the Jewish boy, he handed off the packet. He stared at his friend for a moment, before turning to see Cartman start to throw snowballs with tiny rocks at Stan. He wasn't sure whether or not to stop it before it escalated, but decided against it. He could take this time to properly speak with Kyle.  
He scooted closer, their hands nearly touching. He could see the puffs of air coming from both of them. The closeness was nice, warm, and inviting. Perfect for sharing furtive information with each other. He kept a little distinct though.  
He would rather not incur the wrath of Stan, who was rather protective of Kyle and very irascible. It made sense, as they had been best friends since near birth. To be honest, he wouldn't be surprised if their closeness caused them to conflate, making a strange omni-present and omni-drunk being. Wouldn't be the most surprising thing to happen.  
He lowered his voice, which probably would be hard for Kyle to understand even being this close to him, glancing upwards to keep an eye on the other two's fight. Looks like Stan found a broken soda bottle and was threatening to shank Cartman. Fat ass deserved it. He grabbed at one of the papers in the stack, lifting it gently and showing it to Kyle, pointing out certain things.  
"My uncle had the same thing that you probably have," He whispered, pushing some loose blond hair back into his parka.  
"He was very greedy, and refused to spend money to have his heart looked at. His avarice caused him to die in the back alley of a strip club. He didn't even bother to get the meds he needed for his other heart problems either."  
Kenny sighed before pulling a pen out of his pocket, using one of his arms as a hard surface. Laying the paper down, he circled some numbers and addresses, handing the paper back.  
"I really think you should get checked out. Just in case, man. You never know with this stuff. If I were you, I would totally try this doctor here, he helped my little sister out with some breathing troubles." He took a deep breathe, letting it out in one go, "I know you probably don't think that anything is wrong with you, but could you please get checked out. I would feel so much better knowing that it was just a murmur or something rather than you dropping on the ground one day."  
Oh shit, he could see blood being drawn out of the corner of his eye. Time to break it up, even if it meant getting stabbed, which it probably would. He backed away from Kyle, leaving him to his thoughts. Walking over to Stan, he grabbed his arm before he could punch Cartman again. Stan may be a good fighter, but Cartman had muscle and height on his side.

 

~~

Kyle watched and listened silently, debating on what he should pay more attention to-- the fight going on next to them, what Kenny was rambling on about, or the ever-present and extremely intrusive gay thoughts about... Certain people. Actually, scratch that last one. We're not doing this right now.  
He still gave his friend's words some thought, however. Maybe he should go see a doctor, if not for himself then at least to ease Kenny's nerves. He takes the papers and stares at them blankly while Kenny went to stop Stan and Cartman from killing each other. There wasn't much to think about. He'd go to the doctor, see what the problem was, and just go from there. Simple. Worst case scenario, he has to take some medication or something until he got better, right?  
The sounds of a fight briefly escalating then dying down were easily drowned out by his own coughing. Hunched over, he struggled to breathe between coughs, tears starting to fall down his cheeks. Fuck, it's never been this bad! Panic took over as the short moments he had to breathe grew smaller and smaller, he felt like he would pass out. Or puke. Whichever came first.  
... And then it just stopped. He could breathe, however shallow his breaths were, he was thankful that he could at all. Wiping away tears and snot with his sleeve, his face was left blotchy and red. Kyle glanced quickly and nervously towards the others, hoping beyond all hope that whatever stupid fight Stan and Cartman got into distracted them all from his little sick fit. What would he do if they all knew what may or may not be happening? Cartman would most likely find a way to benefit from it. Stan would probably freak out like he did when they were kids and Kenny got really sick. And you-know-who was already being a worried mother about it.  
Fuck everything. Fuck this illness. Fuck Kenny.

~~

Aw, fucking hell, Kenny could feel the bruise forming on his cheek from Cartman’s punch. It was aimed at Stan, but being the clumsy shit he was, Eric missed by a mile and landed it on Kenny. With all the rage of a McCormick, Kenny grabbed Cartman’s jacket collar and Stan’s shirt front, pulling with the full force of his muscles to smash their heads together. Dropping the two to the ground, their groans and bitching soothing him down from the punch, he turned to check on Kyle. His eyes widened as he took in the scene before him. Kyle was coughing up a storm, loud enough to gather all three boys’ attention. It was a wet, raspy sound, rattling his chest and convulsing the poor teen’s body. Kenny raced over, arms gently grabbing onto the Jewish boy’s arm, the one that was not being used to prop himself up. Stan kneeled on the other side, headache forgotten as concern washed over him. This was new to him, he knew that Kyle was feeling under the weather, but he had no idea it was this bad.  
Watching Kyle wipe his nose and tears away on his sleeve, Stan tossed Cartman his phone, eyes never leaving his best friend’s face. Kyle face was red, and Stan went to put the back of his head on his forehead, withdrawing away in an instant. He was way too hot, especially for how cold SouthPark was.  
“Cartman, call Wendy. Tell her to come pick us up, I think Kyle needs to go to the hospital.” Shivering, the black haired boy pulled both Kenny and Kyle closer, trying and nearly failing to lift Kyle up. They had to get out of the cold. Thankfully, Kenny was already one step ahead of them, rubbing Kyle’s arm and wrapping it around his shoulders, dragging him along.  
“Why do I have to do it? Call your own girlfriend, asshole.” Cartman spat, looking at the phone with contempt.  
Ugh, now was not the time for a hissy fit.  
Swirling around, Stan glared at his friend, face turning slightly red with anger, “Listen, fat-ass, I will kick you fucking ass if you don’t call Wendy right now.”  
“Fine, I’ll call her. Ha, Kyle’s face matches his Jewfro!” Cartman giggled, avoiding the bits of rocks that Kyle attempted to throw at him. Dialing the number in the contacts, he wandered a little ahead of them, voice loud, but not enough for them to hear what he was telling the girl. Hopefully not another Anti-Jew spur.  
“Hey, Kyle can you walk?” Kenny asked, glancing down at his cru-friend. Purely friend.  
Not waiting for a reply, the two walked on, half dragging, half walking their friend to the closest of their homes, which would probably be Wendy’s. Lucky them.  
Getting up the snow covered lawn was harder than thought, but once they reached the doorway, Stan helped Kenny lean the Jew against the wall, sticking his hands in his pocket for his girlfriend’s house key. Thank god that they talked about that beforehand. When Stan was going through his alcohol stage, Wendy didn’t feel comfortable with him wandering town with nowhere to go. Her home had always been open for him.  
“Yeah, we’re at your house right now. Nah, Stan and Kenny are taking him inside. Probably gonna have to talk to you when you get here, might need to help them with the door, cause SOMEONE can’t figure out the keys!” Cartman yelled towards the others, snickering when Stan yelled a ‘Fuck off, Cartman. You try turning a key with frozen fingers.’ “Yeah, bye Wendy.”  
Flipping the phone shut, Cartman walked closer to the others, glancing at Kyle before lifting his other side, taking a bit of weight off Kenny.  
“Don’t look too much into this, Jew. I’m only doing this so we can get inside faster than poor Kenny tugging your ass.” He snarked, ignoring Kyle’s bird flipped towards him and Kenny’s eye roll.  
“Eric, shut up,” Stan’s voice was without venom, as he pushed the door open, flipping the hallway lights on. Thankfully, the house was much warmer than outside.  
Shuffling their way in, the door clicking shut, Stan leaning against it, legs crossed over the other as they mirrored his arms.  
“Make yourself comfortable, but for the love of God, Cartman, don’t break anything.”  
Dumping Kyle on the couch, Cartman plopped down next to him, letting the boy’s legs stray onto his lap, arms spread on the back of the couch. Kenny gently placed the red head’s hat off to the side, stroking the hair and leaning slightly lopsided, closing his eyes and breathing more steadily. He had done most of the heavy lifting, and he could feel the regret seeping into his muscles. He hoped Wendy would get here soon.


End file.
